


I Know I’ll See You On The Other Side (It’s Not The End)

by lostinthesounds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, maybe if we add a little more to that ONE scene, post 6x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 08:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20150701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: POST 6x13: Bellamy pulls back, both hands cupping her face as he assured her through her trouble speaking. “You don’t need an answer to put more guilt on your actions, because it’s not your fault. It’s about grieving, Clarke. It’s going to get better and you have the trust me.”“How do you know?” She’s always trusted him, it’s the reason why her heart slowly starts to mend together with his soft spoken promises.“We finally have a tomorrow to look forward to,” He has a smile growing on his face, and a single tear falls down his cheek because everytime he looks at her, at Clarke—she’s who he thinks of when he thinks of the future. Of what they can start in Sanctum together. “We live forthem.”The people they’ve lost, that’s who he meant.





	I Know I’ll See You On The Other Side (It’s Not The End)

**Author's Note:**

> Season six is over! (Just wanted to express a quick thank you to anyone who’s read my S6 speculation fics these past few months. It’s been a joy writing scenes that I wished happened, thank youuu <3) 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the season, and let’s get through this hiatus by writing a ton of fanfiction!

_“Oh, wait for me, in fields of gold. _  
_It's not the end, it's all I know._  
_ It's all I know._  
_ So don't let go._  
_ Don't let go._  
_ Don't let go._  
_ I won't let go_.” 

** OTHER SIDE - GAITS **

”Tell me it was worth it, please.” Clarke pleads to him, her fingers clutching hard on his wrist. In the midst of other conversations, rejoicing in the fact that they’ve won a war, all Bellamy focused on was the desperation in her face. “Tell me I did better, that _we_—“

She doesn’t know what made her pause, either the hiccup in her voice from trying not to burst into tears or Bellamy’s voice. 

“Hey, _hey_.” He soothes, leaning closer until his forehead was a shadow against her skin. “I know we did better, we did what Monty wanted us to do. We won a home, Clarke. I can tell you that.” 

“I lost my mom, Bellamy.” He knows exactly how that feels, as he feels the familiar ache in his chest every time he thinks about his own mother. “I had to let go of her, and she got floated. Just like my dad.” It makes her shrink into herself, like she was reliving both moments in her head at the same time. 

Clarke surprised him, her head weighs against his chest with a thud and she takes harsh breaths until she’s faintly gasping for air—hiding from the rest of the world—as she tries to grasp onto the _one_ thing she still has. 

_Bellamy_.

He wraps a single arm around her back to keep her steady, throat burning with keeping his own tears back so that she could rely on someone who’s strong enough to handle her. But it was difficult, it _hurt_ to just stand there and wonder how fragile Clarke had become. 

His voice was low enough that only she could hear, "Do you want to talk?

She loosens her grip on his jacket and takes a moment to think, her cries had reduced to a few hiccups and sniffles at times-she turns her head to the side while against still resting against his sweater and takes a deep breath. "I probably won't be able to," She was being honest, knowing how she's been like in the past. But this was Bellamy, the person who understood her more than anybody. "I don't think I can." Then, she thinks of how lonely she felt after her mother died just hours ago and...Clarke pulls back, arms crossed against her chest as if it would do anything, convince her otherwise that it wasn’t the right thing to do. Like the damage couldn't be reversed no matter how hard she tried. 

She thinks that Bellamy knows exactly what to say to break her walls down, to let himself inside her heart like it was easy. 

"What if it's just you and me?" He questioned, and both of them survey the crowd around them and she could already picture it. The weight of the world falling off her shoulders, her armor that's held up by regret and sadness slips off. "I'm here if you need me, you have to remember that." 

It was his hidden plea to talk to each other that eventually got her to cave, because they did have to speak about everything. 

She also tries to figure out how she feels. She feels _numb_. (When Bellamy touches her, she feels something. She feels alive.)

It was a good idea, she knew. 

To talk about her feelings and open up to the one person she’s been holding back to speak to—she thinks of the radio calls for six years, of the regret of not making it to the ship on time—and she nods. 

“I should talk to someone,” She begins to explain, and pauses for the temporary feeling of losing her breath with the way Bellamy likes to look at her. With awe, longing and something _else_. She doesn’t think about that, so she gives up the act and her shoulders slump, “I really want to, so I’d love that.” 

Clarke’s obvious defeat of pushing him away makes Bellamy smile. (She couldn’t help but copy him.) 

He holds his hand out, arm outstretched with a sly grin—anything to make her feel better, to trust him—and he knows they both need this. They need to talk about how they feel, how they can deal with grief and new beginnings, how they feel about _each other_. 

She takes his hand slowly, fingers trailing across his palm as she tries to get used to the feeling of holding his hand for comfort. To be fair, they’ve never actually held hands before so it made sense; but it felt _so_ right. She looks away when Bellamy tilts his head because she knew he was going to tease her about how hesitant she was being, but then he’s pulling her along one of the sidewalks in Sanctum. 

Clarke likes the sound of new beginnings. 

She just has to talk about how she feels and maybe, just _maybe_, she’d finally be herself again. She’s exhausted with just surviving. 

* * *

Clarke didn’t expect this to be so hard for her, especially when she’s with Bellamy since she knows she could always be vulnerable and emotional around him. It was mutual, it always has been. But this felt different, she couldn’t get a hold of how she felt. It kept hitting at once. 

It just keeps replaying in her mind.

Everytime she blinks.

”_Mom?” She lets out a gasp, watching closely as Abby (Clarke couldn’t possibly be sure it was Simone, right?) takes the gun from her hands in an instant. “It’s you?_” 

She feels like she can’t breathe. 

She could’ve held on, she shouldn’t of let go. 

“_It’s me, Clarke.” Her mother repeats with a gentle tone, tears threatening to spill from the corner of her eyes. For the first time in a long time, it’s been too long, Clarke could see the care and love in her mother’s eyes. “I’ve been pretending this entire time, just like you_.” 

If she could only be strong enough to hold on. If she just—

For a split second, she’s back in reality as she feels Bellamy clutch her to his chest like a lifeline. He’s keeping her grounded, as her mind flashes horrid events she would never get to relive or take back. 

Clarke remembers it so well. She lets out a sob when she thinks back to the gun mistakenly hitting the control panel, which opened the airlock and put everyone in chaos and worry. As people held onto anything for their lives to be spared, Clarke tried to ignore the gust of air that tried to suction her into the abyss of nothing. The atmosphere had thrown the airlock into disorder, had people screaming at each other to hold on while she held onto her mother’s hand with every bit of strength she had left. 

Somehow, she knew the wire that was wrapped around her wrist wouldn’t hold the both of them, but she still tugged at it until her knuckles turned white and ached. 

It was a matter of minutes. 

_Seconds_. (If only, she had thought logically) 

_“Mom!” Clarke screamed, her voice turning hoarse for the sudden attempt to reach for her mother’s hand that had slipped through her fingers. As soon as Abby floated out of the airlock, the vent shut closed and her body hit the metal floor beneath her. She let out a small gasp, looking back at the vent as she thinks of what she didn’t say. She didn’t even get to say goodbye_. 

“Clarke,” Bellamy sighs deeply, emotion shining in the crack in his voice. She had told him everything, every emotion, and he was here to witness her in the aftermath. “It’s not your fault.” 

“I should’ve held on, I—“ She tried to reason, to add onto her guilt because she’s always the one who has to save others. “Bellamy, _I_—“ She stutters instead, not able to find the words to finish her thoughts. How can she tell someone how she wished it was her who fell out of the airlock? 

Instead, she was a girl who witnessed both of her parents dying for mistakes _she_ was at fault for making. 

And even after winning the war, after saving Madi, fighting her ways with Josephine, Clarke couldn’t just _live_. She had to live for the memory of her parents, she had to keep her people alive in sanctum and figure out how to settle down. She had finally learned how to survive, but what comes next? 

There she was, wrapped in Bellamy’s arms in the middle of Josephine’s old bedroom in the Prime castle; with her favorite person besides Madi, trying not to panic because she had _no_ idea what her life could be now. Her friends are starting to forgive her, she had Madi safe and sound, Bellamy was _here_. That was something that should make her happy to be alive. 

Bellamy pulls back, both hands cupping her face as he assured her through her trouble speaking. “You don’t need an answer to put more guilt on your actions, because it’s not your fault. It’s about grieving, Clarke. It’s going to get better and you have the trust me.” 

“How do you know?” She’s always trusted him, it’s the reason why her heart slowly starts to mend together with his soft spoken promises. 

“Because we finally have a tomorrow to look forward to,” He has a smile growing on his face, and a single tear falls down his cheek because everytime he looks at her, at Clarke—she’s who he thinks of when he thinks of the future. Of what they can start in Sanctum, _together_. “We live for _them_.” 

She knows what he’s trying to imply with his statement, and it makes her eyes flutter shut—the emotions too high, her memories on replay. 

_Wells. _

_Her dad. _

_Her mom. _

_Friends. _

_Lincoln._

_The rest of the original hundred teenagers who died_. 

“For Monty.” Bellamy exhaled in a small breath, like his name was a reminder for them. “For everyone we’ve lost, Clarke.”

”Everyone we love.” She blurts without thinking, and Clarke’s eyes open to his thumb drawing circles on her cheek. She couldn’t think of anything else to say back—so she doesn’t necessarily use her words, but something that meant so much more to her. To them. 

Her vision is foggy from tears that she keeps from falling, but she’s leaning forward to press her lips against Bellamy’s mouth but his next words make her freeze in place; lips an inch away from touching. Almost immediately she blames herself for letting her emotions get the best of her. 

Was she making a mistake? Was she a fool for letting herself want him? She thinks of pulling back when his hand retracts from the hollow of her neck, or when she thinks she’s crossed a line and has to apologize; but _she’s_ wrong. 

His voice was barely audible, a ghost against her mouth. 

“I almost lost you a few days ago, and I _just_—“ He gets nervous, licking his lips and adjusting his stance. Clarke places a hand on his shoulder, “I had to do revive you and I’m just getting flashbacks.” 

“If you don’t want me to ki—“ 

He cuts her off in disagreement, as he’s caressing her face with his finger. “I want _you_, Clarke. I always have.” 

“I feel the same.” She gasps, as she diverged to kiss his cheek, pressing her lips gently against his skin. “I want to give this a chance, I want to try _us_.” 

“We have a chance, now.” Bellamy realizes after she pulled back, mouth parting in surprise as he says it aloud. After all this time, after befriending her, after losing and loving her for so long; _they_ could finally do this. 

“Did I ruin it now? I’m sorry if it was a spur of the moment th—” To avoid being awkward, she stops talking and takes a deep breath and tries to calm down.

Clarke’s arms wrap around his neck and she squeezes, she could really get used to being so close to him. She’s lost so many she’s loved, Bellamy couldn’t be one of them. _He couldn’t ever be_. She didn’t have a chance to get used to him being around after he returned from Space the first time, so it felt nice. Really nice. It was a start. 

“You won’t ruin anything, you can’t ruin _me_.” It was like he could read her mind at this point. “I just want us to talk first because we shouldn’t rush this.” Bellamy wanted her to understand that hes been waiting to kiss her too, but there was a bigger picture now. He wouldn’t be kissing her before leaving for a hunting trip, or a battle, or his venture into Mount Weather or Praimfaya—he could take his time.

He adds, “This is peace, the single thing we’ve been fighting for since we left the Ark.” 

_Peace_. Clarke nods, but mostly because she hasn’t known that word her entire life. How can she know?

“We’re gonna thrive here, and we’re going to make a life for ourselves.” He thinks back to their earlier conversations and what he says, makes Clarke smile and hide her face in his shoulder. Bellamy returns the embrace, bringing her close to feel her heart beat against his. “We could build that school for Madi, learn how to handle the eclipse and _live_.” 

“Together.” Clarke whispered in his ear and she could hear him laugh and press a harsh kiss the side of her head. It even made her laugh with him, because they’ve said it so many times—but now, it meant something else. It meant that they’d always be side by side, there was no more wars to fight or sharing the burden of losing people they loved. 

“Always.” Bellamy replied, and that’s when Clarke thinks back to what she originally analyzed about Sanctum. 

It looked alike like Eden. The valley that was _her_ home with Madi. 

But, unlike the valley; Clarke has a planet as a home that included all of her people, her friends, the memories she’d keep alive about her parents and tragic losses that’ll live on with her forever. She had found a home in Bellamy, the only person who ever felt like a place to come back to—and that’s what makes the burdens, her bad days, her struggles easier to handle. 

Clarke is never going to be alone again because even if she doesn’t have her parents, she has always had a family with the rest of her people. Now, it was time to forgive, love, and build a future. 

(A future that definitely included the person who became her co-leader, partner and someone she wished to see again when she was at her lowest.) 

But she didn’t have to hope for much longer for their first kiss, he wasn’t hesitant before—she learned after it happened—but eager to show her the love he’s felt for ages. However, they’ve been holding back for years, so it made sense in the end. 


End file.
